Slow Faith: Listening, Lingering, and Discerning God's Presence

Key Quotes

"No, this time, the fifth grader that I was, I had wiggled my way to the very front. And as soon as I heard the sound, I started as fast as I could go because this time I wasn't going to start slow. No, this wasn't my first 5k, this was my second."

The speaker recounts his second 5k race, contrasting it with his first. The author highlights his deliberate decision to start at full speed, believing this approach would lead to a better outcome, directly challenging the idea of starting slow. This illustrates a personal experience where an initial assumption about performance was later proven incorrect.

"But what I do know is when I started fast, I ended up slow. And perhaps by starting slow the first time, I was able to position myself up to end a lot faster than I expected."

The author reflects on the outcome of his second 5k, realizing that his fast start led to a slow finish. The speaker contrasts this with his first race, suggesting that a slower initial pace may have contributed to a surprisingly fast overall performance. This observation introduces the core theme of the sermon: the potential benefits of starting slowly.

"And so I thought, I wondered, what does it mean to start slow? To live with the kind of pace that a slow start makes possible? And I began thinking about the art of a slow faith. And I was reminded what monastics and contemplatives know, what folks who try to coach others on building sustainable habits and sustainable patterns know, which is that it's important to slow down and to listen and to look, to listen and to look."

The speaker connects the racing analogy to a spiritual context, posing the question of what it means to "start slow" in faith. The author draws a parallel to the wisdom of monastics and those who build sustainable habits, emphasizing the importance of slowing down, listening, and looking. This section transitions the central metaphor from a physical race to a spiritual practice.

"And I would submit to you this morning that there is a kind of prayerful, attentive posture that comes with listening and looking and lingering. A kind of posture that can bracket or even fully set aside our own agenda and our desire to control outcomes and our desire to get things just the way we wanted it and our desire to immediately change things and instead opens ourselves up to what is there and what God is stirring in us and through us."

The author proposes that the practices of listening, looking, and lingering cultivate a specific spiritual posture. This posture, according to the speaker, involves setting aside personal agendas and the desire for immediate control. Instead, it fosters an openness to what is present and what divine influence might be at work.

"It assumes that the Bible is not a dead artifact of the past, but something through which God can speak to us yet again. And with that assumption in mind, we go to the text, listening for God, listening for how God might stir something in us."

The speaker explains the foundational assumption of Lectio Divina, which is that scripture is a living medium through which God can communicate. The author emphasizes that this practice involves approaching the Bible not as a historical document, but as a dynamic source for divine interaction. This highlights the active and personal nature of this spiritual discipline.

"Now importantly, one of the other things that stands out to me is that if we read the Bible, we see time and time again God shows up in fire and wind and earthquakes. Indeed, the prophet Elijah is in the very place, or at least it's suggested by the scenery that he's in the very place, Mount Horeb, the cleft of the rock where Moses was when Moses experienced the spiritual pyrotechnics of God in Exodus, which included shaking earth and wind."

The author acknowledges that God is often depicted in powerful, dramatic manifestations in scripture, citing examples like fire, wind, and earthquakes. The speaker notes that the biblical account of Elijah's experience occurs in a location associated with similar divine displays to Moses. This sets up a contrast with where God was found in Elijah's specific encounter.

"And it's as if, I can't help it, it's as if God is saying something like, 'I know you love the displays of power and grandeur and might and strength and control,' but these particular kinds of things might imply, 'but if you want to know who I am and perhaps and perhaps who you are, then you're going to have to pay attention to what is gentle and thin and quiet. But you're going to have to find me in another reality even more true than any display of power or might.'"

The speaker interprets God's message to Elijah, suggesting that while Elijah is accustomed to and perhaps drawn to displays of power, a deeper understanding of God and self requires attention to gentler, quieter realities. The author posits that this subtle presence is a more profound truth than any overt display of might. This emphasizes the theme of finding God in stillness.